


And I'm Changing My Outlook

by munchmulch



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: A conversation about love, About loving someone for the joy of it, Character Study, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Multi, Other, They/Them Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23401612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/munchmulch/pseuds/munchmulch
Summary: Crawly watches the humans, fascinated by how they interact and how they love. Sees how that love can twist into resentment, watches love between friends dashed against the rocks in favor of pining or misplaced anger.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	And I'm Changing My Outlook

Crawly does not fall in love with Aziraphale at first sight. By human standards it takes a lifetime.

Within their first hundred years on earth Crawly's initial fascination and delight over the angel slowly melts into well-worn exasperated fondness, which in turn blooms into a bone deep love that will stay with Crawly long after the sun burns itself out.

And as Crawly learns Aziraphale and learns to love Aziraphale, they also learn humans. More and more pop up over the years, more than Eve's children and grandchildren, humans pulled from the ground and given the same spark of life. Crawly watches how they interact, how they love. Sees how it can turn sad and ugly and resentful, love between friends dashed against the rocks in favor of pining or misplaced anger.

So when Crawly feels it themself for the first time, at another reminder from the angel about their opposing sides, the bitter twinge is immediately followed by fear. Emotions are funny things Crawly is learning, temperamental, and the very idea of the simple joy Crawly finds in the experience of loving the angel transforming into resentment is a horrifying thought.

The fear rolls in them, follows them through time. Confusion and anger at their own thoughts, at their own mind's potential ability to sour the best of their experiences on earth.

It's a human who helps temper that fear -- a failed temptation gone well.

"She'll never feel the same you know." Crawly tosses an apple in the air, catches it. "Never love you like you love her, never give you what you want. Practically teasing you with it."

Crawly's been living in this town for around three months now and is just starting to understand the social dynamics of their temporary neighbors. They're going for wrath here, perched up on this woman's garden wall and admitting to spying on her and her friend as they shared a meal and laughed, as Crawly watched the differences in their love.

The woman is definitely annoyed, brows up and mouth drawn down. She looks a bit like Eve, Crowley thinks. When Eve was edging just past middle age, grandchildren swarming the small village she had helped build. It's the same look Eve would give Crawly when Crawly successfully tempted a group of children into a prank.

The woman shakes her head and huffs. "That is absolutely none of your business." She frowns, squints as she tries to recall something. "Carolina, wasn't it? You just moved in recently?"

Crawly snorts, considers the crawling embarrassment they experience every time they introduce themself as Crawly, and decides to try out the name that they've been thinking about for a while now. "Crowley actually, you going to invite me down?" Crowley gestures to the large clay jug still on the table "You still have juice to offer."

The annoyance fights with amusement on the woman's face she snorts. "I suppose. Hop on down then."

They do, slinking into the chair the woman who just left had been sitting in and flashing a smirk.

Eve’s look-a-like gestures for Crowley to pour the drink, and takes a moment to consider. "Do you love anyone?"

It's an odd way to word that, Crowley thinks, not 'Have you ever been in love?' or 'Are you in love?’ but ‘Do you love anyone?’

"Yes." Crowley answers simply as they fill two cups. There's a reason they always let Aziraphale be the one to deny their friendship, to strangers and to himself. Crowley never has, has never particularly wanted to.

She nods. "And how does that feel?"

Crowley considers, interested enough to be distracted by the original temptation. "Good, like there’s a sun in my stomach and my skin is all tingly. Comfortable, a bit sad.”

She smiles. "That's wonderful! All those good feelings with only a little bit of bad." She takes a sip of her juice thoughtfully, "Ani doesn't love me in the way I love her, but I enjoy being around her. I love feeling the feelings that come with being in love." She considers. "Love can hurt, it can be painful when you can't be around the person you love and you miss them, or they die, or they dislike you. None of those things are true for me and Ani, she cares in her own way, and I get the joy of being around her and loving her."

Crowley stares at this woman, confused and suddenly helplessly hopeful, the idea of temptation now entirely forgotten.

She goes on, "And it's a choice, in the end, to experience that and continue to love completely. It's a choice to love the experience of loving, just as it's a choice and a state of mind that can lead someone to frustration.” Sadness flashes across her face. “Lead someone to throw away one kind of love because the person they've gone all gooey for doesn't want quite the same thing."

Crowley leans forward, "How? How do I make that choice?" How do they stop themself from messing things up, from letting the tangled mess of their own feelings bite their favorite person?

She laughs, and takes Crowley’s hand, eyes crinkled and kind. "I don't know if what I do will work for you, but when I feel that bit of sadness or longing I think of her. I think of all the things about her and experiences we've had together that make my body light up. How could I be sad after that? How could I ever resent something that wonderful?" She squeezes Crowley's hand. "In the end, you're in control of your own actions, the emotions you're feeling don't mean that you're going to follow the destructive paths of people who’ve had similar experiences." She lets go of their hand and slaps their back. "Now tell me of your joyous love!"

And so Crowley does. They tell her of bright smiles and disgruntled wit. They tell her of twisting hands and the moments when they become flailing hands, energized by excitement or frustration. Crowley talks about long conversations that range from the existential to the mundane and occasionally dip into gossip. They tell her of a beautiful, infuriating bastard who folds so much of himself away in careful fear, who brightens a room with his smile and enthusiasm for simple pleasures.

And she tells them of her love, of how her and Ani met and what they've experienced together. She tells Crowley of clay pots and careful hands, of a snorting ugly laugh and a perplexed nervousness when faced with the blunt curiosity of children.

Crowley laughs and tells her of Aziraphale's own bumbling attempts to interact with young humans, about how he really should stick to the youngest ones because preteens are practically demons themselves.

And so they talk, and they drink, first the rest of the juice and then a jug of sickly sweet alcohol. And they are both happy, and in love, and content with that.

In a few more months Crowley will leave on another assignment, and they won't remember the woman's name. But they will remember the name of her love - the picture of a person painted with words and feelings.

And there are things that Crowley still finds themself wistful for. They will wish for more time, for less fear, for the pain and panic in Aziraphale's eyes to be swept away by delight. But Crowley will never wish to feel less, never wish to dampen one moment of fondness, to perform one less act of care.

Crowley chooses, time, time again, to love being in love.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Came A Long Way by Heartless Bastards](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SSDqm66sQp0&feature=youtu.be)
> 
> Come find me over at [munchmulch](https://munchmulch.tumblr.com/)


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